


Mutual

by GalaxyAqua



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5332124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAqua/pseuds/GalaxyAqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sayaka Maizono touched her hand for the first time, Kyouko Kirigiri did not expect to fall this hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is really similar to my other fics but give me a break, I just needed to write some kirizono as an escape

When Sayaka Maizono touched her hand for the first time, Kyouko Kirigiri did not expect to fall this hard.

It was a light brush of fingers, a slip of a worksheet between their desks, and a bump of heads trying to pick it back up. They had fought for it, only for a moment, before Maizono’s slender digits seized the paper, and the slightest grin passed the idol’s lips. Clunky, awkward, and certainly not as smooth as she preferred, Kirigiri had sat back in her chair and coughed into her glove, allowing the other girl to daintily return her worksheet to her desk.  

She had expected the other girl to just leave it at that, return to her own work, and forget about it. That was the usual courtesy between classmates; especially those with a glaring neutrality between them, being not quite friends, but not quite foes, either. This sort of distanced coldness was fine. Distanced coldness, in case nobody had noticed, was Kirigiri’s specialty, after all.

But then, Maizono had the gall to say “thank you” – even though it was _Kyouko’s_ worksheet, and _Sayaka_ had picked it up so that didn’t even make _sense_ – and with a rehearsed wink from the pop singer, the detective knew she was going to be long, long gone.

She didn’t even have time to prepare herself.

Her first impression of Maizono had always been admittedly shallow. Nice girl, cheery personality, people-pleaser, otherwise rather plain and generic. Fake, even. Kirigiri hadn’t bothered much thinking about her – she figured every class had to have their popular girl and Maizono was it (even though she was quite a bit more popular than most, having the entire nation in awe and admiration of her).

A second glance at that picture perfect face, however, sparkly clips, winning smile and flowing, navy hair, cliché as it sounded; Kirigiri had seen a whole new person. A person that she, inevitably, would fall for and get absolutely nowhere with.

It was a feeling she hated at first.

_Lo and behold, yet another poor soul has fallen in love with Sayaka Maizono – national idol and refreshing face across televisions and magazines, and wow, if you think you’ve got a chance, you are a sad, delusional human being._

But she had to accept it eventually.

Kirigiri worked best with subtleties, and she wasn’t immune to her own detective skills. She noticed (with some degree of disdain) how her heartbeat would quicken with every time Maizono so much as looked at her, or passed her by. How a smile from the other girl would leave her strangely elated for long bursts of time, and how a conversation with the idol would then be replayed over and over in her mind until she exhausted herself remembering it.

She knew which classes they shared, and which classes Maizono would care enough to take notes in. She knew that when the idol didn’t take notes, she would never remember the content, too. But she had a tutor from an older year – Kirigiri believed her name was Sonia Nevermind – and with their senior’s help, Maizono managed the typical grades expected of a teenage idol (which is to say, not very high, but not very low, either).

However, being one that was well attuned to their surroundings, Kirigiri did not notice the subtleties that resulted from her own unfavorable emotions alone.

Sometimes, when she was observing their class idly, she would catch Maizono’s gaze from across the room, and the girl would giggle, wave, and turn away with new color in her cheeks.

Sometimes, when Kirigiri sat somewhere in Maizono’s general vicinity, the other girl would create space between them, or move to add an unnecessary bridge between them.

Sometimes, when the detective moved to ask a question (or perhaps to use the printer, or borrow a pair of scissors), all of Maizono’s friends would scatter, and the idol would be left fiddling with her hair as they worked through their conversations with some degree of unfamiliarity.

Unfamiliarity that should not exist for a pop icon; because if there was anything expected of Maizono, was that she would be able to maintain her image at all hours of the day – as long as she was in the presence of another individual.

So, being Kyouko Kirigiri, she didn’t wait for Maizono to explain herself. There was no use in skirting issues, when there are many that can be solved through confrontation and a scary amount of honesty. And intimidation, of course, but usually that tactic only worked on Naegi, Fujisaki and occasionally Ishimaru, so that plan was a bust.

She had tried glaring at Maizono once. It backfired when Maizono tried glaring back. There were certain amounts of adorable that Kirigiri could handle, and Maizono’s faux glare was not one of them.

In any case, when she next encountered Maizono alone, it was in front of the idol’s dorm, when the singer had just opened the door to walk straight into Kirigiri – who was standing deep in thought next to a pot plant.

Before Maizono could get a word in – Kirigiri was in no mood for small talk and had no intention of striking up uninteresting conversation – she opted for asking straight out;

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Maizono blinked, her pretty blue eyes wide.

“Huh? Kirigiri…? What are you saying?”

“I’m asking you a question. Do I make you uncomfortable?”

The idol’s brows furrowed, and she tipped her head curiously, tapping her chin with an index finger. “Why would you think that?”

“You don’t like to meet my eyes. You always move away when I sit near you.” Kirigiri began to list, expression nonchalant. “You don’t like talking about yourself when you’re around me. You…”

“… ah!” Maizono brought a hand to her mouth, seeming to come to some kind of realization. She seemed to be genuinely surprised, but Kirigiri was not entirely certain how far sincerity ran in Maizono’s idol blood. “Oh no, that’s not – I mean, that’s not because of you. It’s not _you_ making me uncomfortable, don’t worry! That would just be silly, you know?”

Kirigiri kept her expression schooled. “Then if it’s not me, what is it?”

“What is what?”  

“What’s making you uncomfortable around me?”

The idol fidgeted, tugging at her own hair. “There’s nothing like that.”

“Maizono.” It was only her name, but it brought the girl back to her senses.

“Call my Sayaka,” she smiled, showing off pristine white teeth.

“S-sayaka,” Kirigiri mentally cursed herself for stuttering, reigning her composure back in. “You know you can’t fool me. And if it was none of my business, I’d leave it alone. But I know you only act discomforted around me.”

“Hmmm.” Sayaka’s smile dropped a little, concern laden in her crystal gaze. “Well… it’s not something I can really say to anyone. Especially not out here…”

Sending a glance around the still-empty hallway (better safe than sorry, she guessed), Kirigiri replied with, “What if we went inside one of our dorms? They’re soundproof, and the cameras can be tricked. You know I wouldn’t spill a secret.”

“Of course I know that, but…”

Kirigiri crossed her arms. Sayaka averted her gaze.

“Oh, alright.” The idol sighed in resignation. “But you’re absolutely not allowed to say anything about it, okay?”

Attempting to keep her smirk under wraps (Kirigiri was skilled in the arts of accidental persuasion, it seemed), she nodded and gestured for the singer to lead the way. Being right in front of Sayaka’s dorm, it appeared to be most logical to just enter there, so after a moment fumbling with her keys, Sayaka let them both in and shut the door behind them.

As she turned back to face the detective, Kirigiri noted that the smile had returned to Sayaka’s face.

“Not a word?” She asked, finger to her lips.

“Not a word.” Kirigiri confirmed. Her curiosity was only growing by the second. But still, the weight of dread started to sink in her stomach – half expecting Sayaka to confess outright that she _did_ make her uncomfortable, and that Kirigiri was not as good at hiding her emotions as she thought she was.

With this added worry, Kirigiri almost forgot that this was the first time she had entered Sayaka’s room, and upon this realization, she forced herself to look at the other girl and only at the other girl. Any kind of extra observation would only serve as fuel against herself, and she did not want to know the details of the beauty products Sayaka used, or the casual clothes she wore, or the sleepwear or the – just stop right there. Stop.

The idol didn’t seem the type to condone unwanted gay thoughts, but Kirigiri did not want to take that risk. She shut her eyes, then opened them again, as slowly as possible (without being suspicious). Luckily, Sayaka was too occupied to notice.

“How do I say this…” Sayaka landed gracefully on her bed, legs crossing. Kirigiri chose the safe option – leaning against the door – so as to avoid being asked to join the other girl on the bed, or to sit closer.

“Have you ever wondered,” The idol grabbed her pillow to hold it in her lap. “What the difference between a platonic crush and a romantic crush is?”

“Isn’t it pretty clear?” Kirigiri inquired, arms crossing once more. “Platonic is usually viewed in the friendlier sort of way, or familial, if you want to use that word. Romantic is for… well… lovers, I would say. People who you fall in love with, not just in the friend sort of way.”

“Oh, I understand that part. It’s just…” Sayaka nodded absent-mindedly. “When you see someone you think you have a crush on – how do you know if it’s just a friendly crush or a lover crush, you know what I mean?”

“And this has to do with your behaviour around me because…?”

“Because, I’m confused. About my feelings… for you.”

Kirigiri stared, in the _oh shit everything finally makes sense_ kind of way. “So it’s not because you hate me.” She stated.

Sayaka’s eyes widened, and the idol waves her hands around, “No, what? Of course not! Is that what it looked like? I’m so sorry, oh my gosh…!”

“Apology accepted.” She shrugged. “Now that we’ve cleared up that misunderstanding, do you want to explain your dilemma in full to me or would that be a little too much?”

“It’s a bit much,” Sayaka giggled nervously. “But then, do you mind if I ask how you feel about me? Of course, I’m not expecting a lot… but it might help me sort out some things…”

“I like you.”

Sayaka blinked owlishly. “That’s… um. Very vague.”

Kirigiri felt her face flare up. She hated explaining herself, and this was one of the situations where she wished she had telepathic powers to communicate to the other girl that _you’re a gorgeous human being and I really like you but I suck at feelings and I wish you’d just kiss me and get it over with right now. Buildup be damned. It’s your own fault I’m in love with you in the first place._

Instead, she said, “That’s right. Figure it out yourself.”

And before Sayaka could muster any sort of reply, Kirigiri opened the door, bowed quietly, let herself out, and sped off, heat still flaming in her cheeks.

_Also, I’m an idiot and I’m sorry._

* * *

 

She could feel Sayaka’s eyes boring into the side of her head, but refused to look over. Class nowadays went too slow, and Kirigiri could not even revert to her old habits of ‘check the clock every 5 minutes to count down until class ends’ because if she turned her head in that direction, Sayaka would catch her gaze and she wouldn’t be able to look away. Her pride didn’t allow it. She didn’t want to run away from the girl, but sometimes all she wanted was for Sayaka not to look at her – not to care about her sudden extra distance.

It wasn’t even as if anything big had happened. She had confirmed to Sayaka that they were on positive terms, and that was that. Surely, if she had simply acted as usual – calm, collected Kyouko Kirigiri who does not give a damn – everything would have gone back to normal.

But the moment Sayaka waved and said ‘good morning’ in that melodic voice of hers, and Kirigiri had turned the other way and all but slammed into her desk, she knew she was a goner.

Sayaka could have convinced herself that her ‘like’ was fully platonic the night before. But that convincing met no end, because if Kirigiri was even an inch too obvious before, she was basically a red light now; blaring ‘I like Sayaka Maizono’ as if there was a neon sign with the words attached to her forehead.

Luckily, most of their class was too dim-witted to see the obvious. She had seen Togami raise an eyebrow, Fukawa rolled her eyes, and perhaps Celes had scoffed behind a bedazzled white hand, but everybody else had brushed it off as normal – as if they had just been waiting for Kirigiri to finally show her true dorky colors, and act as imbecilic as the rest of them. Not that she would say that of them; those words belonged to Togami alone.

Regardless, Kirigiri didn’t care what the others thought so long as _Sayaka_ would stop giving her those puzzled (silently knowing) looks.

So very often was she tempted to just stand up and snap, “What? Are you disgusted by me? Well, I’m sorry that you’re so beautiful I can hardly stand it. It’s all my fault that you’re pretty. And kind. And cute when you’re trying to be cheeky. Is that it? Is that what you want me to say?”

But being Kirigiri, and at least having some form of tact when she wanted to have it, she didn’t.

* * *

 

Sayaka came up to her one day after class, waiting for all the others to slowly filter out of the room. Kirigiri remained rooted in her place, not trusting her feet (or her mouth for that matter), and just like the idol, she waited.

The singer clasped her hands together, once everyone had left, and said two words, ever so lightly; “It’s romantic.”

Kirigiri looked up, and it took a moment for her to connect the dots. She was glad that she was sharp, otherwise there would probably be weeks more of this pathetic dancing around each other, and she wasn’t sure how long her heart could handle that.

_A platonic crush and a romantic crush?_

_‘It’s romantic’._

_Figure out the way in which I like you?_

_‘It’s romantic’._

“Nice.” She answered eloquently.

Sayaka giggled; a sweet, tender sound. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Is that a problem?”

“This is anticlimactic, Kyouko.”

She blushed, unwillingly, and pulled her lilac plait between her fingers – an idle distraction. It had been a long time since someone had called her Kyouko out of free will. Somehow, hearing it from Sayaka’s mouth was more embarrassing than knowing that her own stupid feelings were reciprocated.

“What do you want me to say, then?”

“Hmm! Good question,” Sayaka hummed cheerfully. “Maybe that you’re free Friday night and would love to go to the movies with me?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Well, you didn’t look like you were going to, so…”

Kirigiri felt her blush deepen. “I was… going to, eventually.”

“And I did it for you! So, what do you say?” She smiled, a tinge mischievous. “Is your answer ‘yes I’ll do the movies’ or ‘yes I’ll come over there and kiss you because I’ve been wanting to do that since forever, also Sayaka, you’re the most perfect human on the planet just so you know’?”

“… where did that second option come from?”

“I was trying to be cute, now kiss me missy or so help me you’re getting put on my ‘pretty detectives that suck at reading the signs’ list.”

“Let me guess. I’m the only person on that list.”

Sayaka, seeming understandably frustrated, leant over the desk and whispered, “ _Kyouko_.”

The detective smirked slightly, meeting her halfway, but intentionally missing and planting a gentle kiss to the corner of the idol’s mouth. “Yes?”

“You’re so unfair.”

Their lips met properly; first kiss dainty and chaste.

“Oh, believe me. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Their second kiss ran deeper, the school bell doing nothing to break them from the awkward clashing of teeth, and the laughter that followed soon after.

“I think I can hazard a guess.”  


End file.
